Guilty Pleasures. Tasmina Perry

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СКАЧАТЬ just looking for a way to steal her thunder? How much more of her work had he passed off as his own? The bastard.

      ‘Emma. Given time, I, for one, think you have a future at Price Donahue,’ said Davies sympathetically. ‘You are only 29 years old.’

      ‘If you’re good enough, you’re old enough,’ she whispered, her hands trembling.

      They looked at each other, each knowing that Price Donahue was a company of Young Turks; you had your window of opportunity to make partner. If you didn’t make it, you were history.

      Without another word she got up and left the room.

      She walked back to her office in silence, a short shake of the head all she needed to impart her news to Gretchen.

      ‘Who did?’ she asked, knowing Gretchen was popular with all the PAs and secretaries in the company.

      ‘Pete Wise, Jack Johnson, Bob Hatch,’ she said apologetically.

      Pete Wise? The man was an idiot! And what business had Jack Johnson brought in? Despairing, Emma grabbed her coat and headed out into the cold Boston evening.

      The tall office blocks of downtown soared up around her. In front, Boston harbour shimmered like a vat of ink. Suddenly she felt very small and alone.

      Hearing footsteps behind her on the pavement, she turned to see Mark running after her, his breath puffing white clouds up to the skyline behind him.

      ‘Em! Emma!’ he called, panting as he caught up with her.

      ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you didn’t make it,’ he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘I only found out early today.’

      She jerked her arm away from him.

      ‘Don’t give me that, Mark,’ she said turning on her heel. ‘You knew.’

      ‘Emma. Don’t get so worked up. What’s the big hurry? You’ll make partner next year.’

      She stopped and turned back, her eyes blazing.

      ‘Next year? Or perhaps the next? Or whenever you let Daniel Davies know that I’ve suitably matured?’

      Mark went pale.

      ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘Davies told me about your recommendation, that I wasn’t ready for partner. Not quite the same line of bullshit you have been feeding me for the past two months, is it?’

      ‘Now come on,’ he said, putting out his arms towards her, ‘that’s not what I said.’

      ‘Oh really?’ she challenged. ‘He seemed very clear about it.’

      ‘He’s obviously taken what I said the wrong way …’

      The snake, thought Emma, walking off in disgust. Mark chased her, grabbing her arm.

      ‘Davies thinks you brought in the Frost Industries as well. Apparently you told him so. Or did he take that the wrong way as well?’

      ‘Come on Em, let’s talk about this. I thought we were going to have supper.’

      ‘You betrayed me, Mark,’ she said her voice thick with emotion. She was desperate not to cry but she could feel the tears welling up and stinging the backs of her eyes.

      Mark turned away then faced her.

      He looked as if he was about to keep denying it but finally he simply shrugged his shoulders.

      ‘OK. You’re right. I happen to think you’re not ready to be a partner,’ said Mark flatly. ‘You are a good business strategist, but you’re too soft. You don’t even have the balls to fire that dim secretary of yours. You’re an academic, not a corporate player. You’re too nice to make tough decisions. You’re just not ready to play with the big boys.’

      ‘And Pete Wise is ready? Jack Johnson is ready? Does being on your softball team make you ready for partnership? I’m good, Mark,’ she pleaded. ‘You know it.’

      ‘You do well at Harvard and you think the world owes you a favour,’ he laughed scornfully.

      ‘I trusted you to tell the truth,’ she said quietly. ‘I trusted you to tell people like Daniel Davies that I was the best. But no, you surround yourself with yes-men, idiots who will make you look good.’

      ‘Fucking you could have cost me my job and this is all the thanks I get,’ he said sneeringly Droplets of rains began to fall. They were like slaps on the cheek.

      ‘Fucking me,’ she repeated quietly. ‘Is that what it was to you?’

      Mark glared at her, then waved a dismissive hand in the air.

      ‘Ah, you needy women are all the fucking same: Davies is right, you probably do want to run off and have a baby.’

      She looked at him. The man she had whispered ‘I love you’ to, the man she had admired and trusted, had withered to a sycophant and a liar, a man who lived off other people’s hard work and talent. She knew she was better than him, but there was little doubt he had played the game better than her. The likes of Daniel Davies would never know how much she put into the company, how much profit was directly down to her efforts and talent because operators like Mark Eisner took the glory for himself.

      Waves were beginning to whip up in the harbour and rain was beginning to fall more heavily. Lights on the skyscrapers behind her sent a muddled saffron glow into the shallow puddles. She was angry, confused, but she was sure about one thing.

      ‘I don’t ever want to see you again,’ she said as evenly as she could.

      ‘Emma, don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, the tone of his voice softening. ‘We have to work together.’

      ‘Do we?’

      She thought of Winterfold, that crazy jumble of antiques and bric-a-brac, she thought of the lazy village and its single red telephone box, all of it a million miles away from this corporate jungle. Saul had trusted her to take over his entire company. Saul had faith in her. And suddenly so did Emma.

      Suddenly she had a clear sense of purpose, a sense of belonging.

      ‘Happy birthday, Em,’ said Mark, hunching his back against the rain.

      She didn’t turn round. She just kept on walking.

5

      Briarton Court, one of England’s top boarding schools for girls, had phenomenal resources at its disposal. Its one hundred acres of grounds housed an embarrassment of riches: indoor and outdoor swimming pools, a lacrosse pitch, running track and tennis and petanque courts. In the classroom, Briarton’s pupils – who included the children of politicians, tycoons, ambassadors, billionaires, minor European royalty and good old-fashioned English aristocrats – had the opportunity to study everything from Calculus to Mandarin, not to СКАЧАТЬ